Griffin and I walk with our hands linked. I have no expectations about where we’re going to be. He only learned that I like Axelrod a few weeks ago, so I doubt we’ll be in front. But at the moment, I don’t care if we’re all the way up in the nosebleed section.
Thousands of folding chairs are set neatly in front of the stage. So many people are already here, swarming like ants. Griffin leads me through the crowd, stopping when we reach the front row, just left of center stage.
I raise my voice so he can hear me over the noise. “This is where we’re sitting?”
“Yup.”
“How did you do that?” An unlikely idea pops into my head.
“Magic,” he says, like it’s nothing.
“Did you buy our tickets from a scalper?” Seats this good for a band this popular cost thousands of dollars, assuming you can even find them in the first place. I know Griffin has to have some money, but usually I’m the one expected to fund this sort of lavish excursion. Not that what he’s doing for me feels bad. It’s just…I’m touched he went through so much trouble, because it isn’t just about money, but his remembering that Axelrod is my favorite band and making this trip and the concert happen for me.
He cares. Really cares. And that means more than anything in the world.
“A scalper?” Griffin gives me a look that says, Do you think I’m stupid? “No. I just…know somebody who had to cancel at the last minute.”
“So you didn’t have to trade your liver or anything?”
“No.”
I smile, relieved. “Okay. Great.”
Since it’s going to be a while before the concert starts, we sit down. The Japanese fans are civilized and polite, keeping to themselves and chatting with their friends without smoking or starting to drink heavily. Some of the girls behind us giggle.
“Do you think they’re going to stay seated and all that once the concert starts?” I ask, unsure what the etiquette in Japan is. People here seem much more formal than in the U.S. They might pull out opera glasses.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been to a rock concert in Japan before. I’ve only been here once to watch a baseball game.”
“You like Japanese baseball?”
“I don’t follow Japanese sports, but I was invited, so…” His tone says it was anything but pleasurable.
I look around, hoping I won’t have to keep my butt glued to my chair. What’s the fun in that?
The lights come up, then dim again. Fireworks go off on stage, bright yellow and red sparkles shooting up. The crowd buzzes in excitement, jumping to their feet.
Griffin are I are on our feet too. I look at the stage, mesmerized.
When the lights come back, Axelrod is on stage! People start screaming, and excitement sweeps through the giant stadium in an electric surge.
All four members wave to the crowd. Killian Axelrod yells, “Hello, Tokyo!” and the crowd goes insane. A drumbeat starts and then the rest of the band jump into their first number.
The band sounds so good live. The music pulses like a living thing, making me feel like I’m on some heightened plane of reality. Killian’s stage presence is mesmerizing, and my heart thuds loudly in my ears as feverish excitement shivers through me.
Giddy, I take Griffin’s hand. He glances at me, and I smile. My smile broadens when he gives me a lopsided grin that makes my heart soar.
You. Are. The. Best,I mouth at him.
He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head in helpless agreement. The gesture makes me laugh again.
My pulse throbs to more than Axelrod’s music. It throbs to the pulse I’m feeling through Griffin’s warm, dry palm. I wish I could freeze this moment and preserve it forever.
The band plays for the best part of an hour, hitting all my favorite songs. Then they take a quiet moment.
“I don’t normally do special requests, but this one I couldn’t ignore,” says Killian Axelrod. “It’s from a man who wants to do something very special for the most special woman in his life. He asked us for help, and I thought…why not?”
I look around, but there are probably fifty thousand people packed into the dome. Who is this lucky woman? I’d die of a happy heart attack if anybody did anything like this for me.